Ace Combat: Nightmare
by SpeCt3r1995
Summary: Colonel William Bishop struggles to come to grips with reality in the midst of an intense battle over Miami. Based on one of my new favorite video games ACE COMBAT ASSAULT HORIZON. On momentary Hiatus due to (and I do hate saying this because I sound like a snob) lack of inspiration.
1. Chapter 1

**SKIP TO LAST CHAPTER  
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**A/N: Some spoilers, I guess. You pretty much figure out most of this in the first level though so... yeah. Anyways not much different from the actual level (The level is called HOMEFRONT for those who are curious) in game except for a little bit of an added intro. I was kinda in a pumped mood when I wrote this so some of it may sound kinda cheesy since I was pretty much like "YEAH! MAKIN IT INTENSE!" *Ahem* Anyways just my version of this mission. Enjoy!**

**NONE OF THIS STUFF BELONGS TO ME. Except my laptop. And a copy of the game. (which I am on my way to go play cuz writing this made me wanna play it again lol)**

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><p><strong>Ace Combat: Nightmare<strong>

**Chapter 1**

**Bleeding Metal**

The skies of Florida were calm, with clouds gently moving at the mercy of the wind. The man in the cockpit leaned back, deep in thought. With all that had happened, and all of the chaos that he had been thorough, it was nice to finally have a moment to just fly. Moisture formed on the glass as the F-22 Raptor dipped into a cloud, only to emerge from the opposite side. The man pulled back on the stick to raise the aircraft above the clouds. When he did this, the sun nearly blinded him, so he raised his hand to block the bright light.

He leveled off the plane and stared at his hand. He had seen this before, many times.

When he last saw this image, the hand had been used as a futile defense to protect him from an enemy aircraft hurtling toward his form, which was drifting toward the ground with a parachute. That had simply been a dream, as was the chaos that followed. However, at the end of the carnage, he had been forced to eject, and the same horrible event had replayed.

He felt the panic even after he woke abruptly upon impact.

_This, though_, He thought, lowering his hand and looking at it as he clenched it into a fist, _this is no dream_.

He was still deep in thought when the first words broke through the cloud surrounding his mind.

"_Hey, Boss!"_

He was still attempting to return to reality. The voice sounded so distant.

"Will!"

That one was louder. Bishop snapped out of it and attempted to get his bearings. He responded to Warwolf Two's frantic yelling. "Yeah, Guts, still here", he finally managed to say.

"Oh good", was the reply over the headset. "After all that time, I was beginning to wonder if you had dozed off on the way."

Truth be told, he wasn't too far off.

"'Bout time you shut him up", Warwolf three added. "Guy was giving me a headache"

Surprisingly, Captain Jose "Guts" Gutierrez was silent for a moment. When he finally spoke, it was with a surprising amount of concern. "Boss, you ok? You seem a bit out of it today."

"I'm fine Guts. Just focus on getting to Miami in one piece." Upon saying the name of their destination, a few more images from his nightmare surfaced. Flames rained from the sky, explosions shook the very air, and the shark mouth. The very thing that had haunted his nightmares time and time again.

Bishop once again fought to suppress the images now swimming through his mind. _It's just a dream_, He thought. He gripped the flight controls tighter. _I'm in control now_.

They flew in silence as their planes rapidly approached their destination.

When they finally arrived in the airspace above Miami, Bishop keyed the radio. "Warwolf leader to Warwolf flight, radios."

Naturally, Guts was the first to speak up. "Here boss, loud and clear." Bishop relaxed slightly upon hearing his old friend's voice, and waited for the others to respond.

"Roger Warwolf leader, three"

"Four"

That was everyone. Bishop scanned the skies for hostiles. Suddenly, Magic, the AWACS operator, keyed in. "All aircraft be advised, we have bogies to the east."

Bishop looked carefully, and made out the shape of aircraft in the distance. At the speed the planes were closing, it took only a few seconds for Bishop to make out the distinct shape of Sukhoi aircraft. "Flankers", He said flatly.

Tiger flight leader spoke up, "God there's a lot of them. Where the hell did they fly out of? They sure didn't come from Cuba."

"They didn't come from the Bermuda Triangle", was the sarcastic reply from Guts.

Bishop had a clear shot. But of course, he couldn't take it just yet. He waited for Magic to request that they "state their intentions". Naturally, no response came. Guts pointed this out. "They ain't talking Colonel."

Suddenly, a missile streaked from one of the aircraft and nearly hit Tiger One. That was all the clearance Bishop needed. "All aircraft you are clear to engage"

With that, he immediately picked a target from the group and began firing his gun. The pilot of the aircraft noticed he was being targeted, and immediately dove toward the ocean. Bishop followed with full intent to knock the man out of the sky, preferably in a ball of fire. The Russian leveled off and flew in the direction of the city. Knowing Guts was nearby, he decided to clarify, "He's mine Guts".

An alarm went off as he was giving chase through the buildings. Someone was locked on to him. He still did not give the man he was chasing a moment to breathe, chasing him while at the same time trying to get the other off his six. He jerked his head around to see how close the Russian was to him, only to see the plane engulfed in a flurry of tracer rounds. One scored a lucky hit, and the plane's fuel tank exploded. The pilot never got the chance to eject.

The violent fireball was soon replaced by another F-22 dropping in behind him. "Got your back, boss", said Jose.

"Thanks, guts", Bishop replied as he refocused on the plane in front of him. He was almost shocked that it was still there, but then he realized the whole event had happened in a matter of seconds. Still, he found it disturbing that he was able to unconsciously keep up with the pilot's erratic maneuvers without much thought. _Because I've done this before_, a voice said from somewhere within him.

He wasted no time in shutting the voice up, and refocusing on the Su-27 in front of him. He lined up the gun, and fired. He had lead off perfectly, and watched with grim satisfaction as the pilot flew directly into the stream of bullets, which smashed his canopy, killing him instantly.

"All aircraft be advised, all bogies are considered hostile", Magic reported. Bishop actually had to suppress a laugh. _Now_ they were considered hostile? He looked at the enemy plane as it smashed into a skyscraper. _We might have had a problem here if they weren't_, He thought with a mirthless grin.

He scanned the sky, and found another target. An Su-33 this time. He jerked the aircraft upwards and hit full afterburner. "You're not getting away", he said as he prepped a missile.

Again, Magic chimed in. "All aircraft be advised, some enemy aircraft are moving eastward, out to sea." The ones that he was currently trying to shoot down. Still, he felt it necessary to make Magic feel useful. "Roger that Magic, we are pursuing"

He fired a missile and let it do its work. He must have caught the pilot off guard, because the only thing he did was eject _after_ the missile blasted off the rear half of his plane. Warwolf two had similar luck, destroying his opponent with one push of a button.

Six more aircraft appeared, seemingly from nowhere. Guts cursed. "Sorry colonel, we should have realized it was a trap."

Bishop felt no anger or disappointment toward his friend. Only determination filled his senses as he made an important decision. _Even if I die_, he thought, _I'm making sure as many of my men make it home as possible_. He was satisfied with that. He wanted to make sure all of Warwolf squadron made it home in one piece. It was only after he thought this he realized an alarm was blaring in his cockpit.

"WARWOLF ONE! EVADE!" Guts' frantic yelling didn't help much. He tried to figure out what he could do, when suddenly he realized, the enemy plane was directly behind him. Bishop decided to kill two birds with one stone.

He pulled back on the stick, angling the nose upwards toward the sky. He gave it a little bit of thrust, and the aircraft gained a bit of altitude. The missile streaked harmlessly underneath his plane, but he continued to suspend the Raptor there for a few more moments, something that was only possible due to the plane's thrust vectoring system and partially automated controls.

He got what he was waiting for.

The Russian Su-35 flew underneath him, desperately trying in vain not to overshoot its target. As soon as it passed, however, the pilot hit the afterburners and rocketed forward. Bishop leveled the aircraft and opened up the throttle. "It's just not your day", he said. With that, he fired the mounted gun and watched as the Sukhoi was enveloped in tracers, and then spiraled to the ground, minus one wing.

"Warwolf, be advised, there are bandits over the city", Magic warned.

"Copy that. Warwolf flight, go west, cover Miami. Guts, you're with me"

"Roger that boss", Guts replied.

The battle intensified, with the Russians calling on reinforcements, and tiger flight coming in to lend a hand. The radio chatter intensified, missile trails flew in every direction, and wreckage rained down into the skyline of the city.

Bishop followed his next target, which he believed to be his fifteenth (he had honestly lost count at this point). The plane bobbed and weaved through buildings, but to no avail. Bishop shot down the aircraft over what looked like a baseball stadium. He could barely tell at this speed. In a final act of defiance, a piece of shrapnel flew from his opponent's aircraft and struck his Raptor.

"Colonel", Guts began, "Your plane."

Bishop's mind flashed back to the nightmare. This had happened in the dream too. Same enemy, same spot, same everything. Then, Bishop had run a full flight check, and had come up with nothing wrong with the plane. He knew that it was fine. "I've dealt with this…" He paused. Now wasn't the time for this. "I… I have control" He said simply. He felt a surge of energy flowing through him. He gripped the controls firmly and sat back in his seat. "Let's do this!"

Magic checked in, and Bishop knew what he would say before a sound came over the radio. "Warwolf One, what's your status?"

For this one moment, he'd play along. "Looking for action"

"Second flight of bandits approaching from the south."

Bishop had already aimed his plane's nose directly at the planes coming in before Magic finished his statement. He was ready now. At this point, adrenaline flowed through his veins rather than blood. He picked a target and latched onto his tail. As the two planes danced through the sky, another transmission came from Magic, for all to hear.

"Incoming message from the commander in chief." He relayed the message to all of the aircraft now participating in the battle for Miami.

"This is President David Hamilton."

Bishop Fired a missile that the Russian avoided with chaff.  
>"As I speak, our nation is under attack by a group of renegade Russian pilots."<p>

The Su-33 got on Bishop's tail and fired frantically.  
>"They are determined to kill our innocent civilians with a powerful air-launched weapon."<p>

Bishop desperately evaded the stream of bullets, pushing the Raptor to the limits of its maneuverability.  
>"I have personally directed the Air Force and other military branches to intercept these criminals."<p>

A missile streaked towards Bishop, but he fired flares and spun with feverish speed.  
>"They have orders to shoot them all down before they harm our country."<p>

He slowed down as he spun and allowed the enemy plane to pass him.  
>"This is a dark and difficult day, but at the end we will persevere."<p>

He fired a stream of tracers at the Russian and watched as the plane detonated.

Now above the action, Bishop looked down at the violent storm of aircraft now engaged in an all-out brawl. He looked over to Guts, who had just leveled off close by. His friend flashed him a thumbs-up. Bishop nodded and nosed down, diving into the raging torrent of chaos.  
>"To the brave men and women defending us… Godspeed."<p>

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><p><strong>If you've made it this far, It means you have good taste in writing. JKJKJK. Yeah I'm happiest about the ending... though it's not usually a good thing when readers are saying "My favorite part was when it ended :D" -_- lol anyways hope you liked it. REVIEW. NOW. you know... if u can...<strong>

**THE POLL IS CLOSED. I got one response... and that was to continue writing. Power to you man, whoever you are. I'm going to continue writing just for you. (And the awesome people who reviewed this and encouraged me to continue.)**

**This story seemed to get more of a response than either of my other two stories... And I greatly appreciate the support. (I like this one best anyway :D) I still have a rather small fanbase, but the best part of that is that I can respond to each individual reviewer. Aaaaaaaaanywayyy, this story will now hopefully continue to the end of the game.**

**THANKS GUYS**

**-Specter**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This was actually not supposed to continue... but I was convinced otherwise by my 3 reviewers who convinced me to continue.**

**Bondubras of Devoncroix****- Thanks man. Thats the best kind of review in my book.**

**Sheity- I'm going to try it in a later chapter... I promise.**

**yellow 14- I know we already discussed this over PM but... Its WARWOLF lol. Thanks for reviewing.**

**Those three ^ Are the reason this is going up. So, if this sucks... blame them. hahaha jk.**

**In my opinion, I had a pretty strong start, so I hope this chapter doesn't mess anything up. Anyway, Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Ace Combat: Nightmare<strong>

**Chapter 2**

**Insanity**

Everyone felt afraid at some point in their life. Whenever one is overtaken by the feeling, their body seems to shut down. Logical thinking dissipates rapidly due to the disjunction of the mind from the body. Ice pumps through their veins rather than blood, numbing all of their limbs and sending chills jolting through the body. Time slows down, and they enter a strange state in which they are constantly aware of their actions, but unable to consciously influence them in any way.

Colonel William Bishop felt most of these effects, except for one: the mind-numbing effect infamous for causing the loss of control. Because of this, he confirmed his belief. He wasn't afraid.

He had dealt with his fear by this point. He didn't care if he died. Still, his body went through the process of the fight or flight response, quickening his natural reflexes. His mind was operating more quickly, and he was able to navigate his way through the horrid storm of tracers and raining metal. The harmonious combination of thought and instinct made him into a cold blooded hunter of the air. He felt nothing. No anxiety, no anger, and no remorse.

Bishop squeezed the trigger on the flight stick of the F-22 and watched as a stream of tracers tore the Russian plane in front of him to shreds. There was no ejection for that man. The stream of hot metal carved a brutal scar across the aircraft, starting from the nose, crossing directly across the cockpit, and finally hitting the fuel tank, causing the plane to erupt into a fireball that seemed to consume all of the metal in the aircraft, along with the body of the pilot. Not that he would have minded, of course, seeing as the bullets had ended his life long before the detonation.

Bishop banked left to evade the debris still left from the explosion and began to scan the skies for a good target. He crooked his neck to the left, and saw another plane get hit by a missile. Only, this one wasn't Russian. Bishop broke free of his battle haze for a moment as he watched the plane spin. The rear half of the aircraft was gone and it trailed thick black smoke in the wake of its death spiral.

"Coyote to AWACS. Coyote 2 is hit", a woman's voice said over the comm. Bishop watched as a small form shot from the plane's cockpit, dropped a short distance, and was then suspended by a parachute. The cloth canopy was the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen.

The pilot was alive. "He's out of the plane. I see a chute!" She exclaimed, he voice sounding considerably less sullen than it had moments before.

Then again, if they could see it…

Bishop's eyes darted throughout the sky and he confirmed his suspicion. A Sukhoi was diving in on the man's parachute, clearly with the intent to kill him before he ever hit the water. Bishop opened the throttle to full afterburner, climbing rapidly. He then rolled the Raptor belly-up and dove after the Russian pilot. Bishop cut power to the engine, to avoid overshooting his target, and lined up the digital sight.

The moment the circle was over the Sukhoi, he opened fire with the machine gun, taking the man down with a quick burst. The Russian's drop became less controlled, and slowly but surely devolved into an erratic spin. The pilot quickly ejected, and popped his own chute.

Bishop nearly laughed at the irony. Now that man knew what it was like to be floating down helplessly through a maelstrom of heated metal. He couldn't bring harm to another one of Bishop's comrades that day.

But then again… Perhaps Bishop shouldn't take any chances.

It would be so easy. A quick burst from his machine gun or, hell, maybe even a missile to end the poor bastard's life. Just to make sure he didn't cause any trouble later.

Or maybe he could ram him with the plane. Not even bother wasting the ammo. Bishop had died that way plenty of times in his nightmare. The same way, the same enemy. He knew it was going to happen to him. Deep in his gut, he knew. If these guys wanted to play rough, why shouldn't he?

Bishop eased his plane ever so slightly so that it was on a collision course with the Russian pilot drifting down with his parachute. The pilot must have noticed him at some point during Bishop's dash, because he was now frozen. His arms no longer fumbled with the harness in an attempt to guide his landing. The man's visor pointed directly at Bishop, no doubt concealing a horrified expression. Bishop relished the feeling as his plane drew ever nearer to the defenseless man.

"Coyote one to AWACS operator, Coyote two has splashed down! I repeat he made it to the water! He looks okay down there", Coyote one spoke up over the comm yet again.

Her voice, and the message it carried, snapped him out of his blood-drunk mindset. He threw the plane into a hard left turn and narrowly missed the pilot. The wind from Bishop's plane spun the Russian like a top as he continued his decent. Bishop pushed up his visor and wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead.

"Magic acknowledged. Helicopter en route for search and rescue."

"And uhh… Magic, we've got a downed hostile about to take a swim as well, he might need a hand", Bishop said, trying to regain some composure.

A pause over the comm link. Followed by, "Magic to Warwolf one, we copy last transmission. Will divert helicopter unit to apprehend after all friendlies have been recovered. Be advised, hostiles take second priority, Warwolf lead."

"Warwolf one to Magic. Got it, reengaging active hostiles in combat zone."

"Copy that Warwolf. Happy hunting."

Bishop took a quick moment to recollect himself. What the hell was that just now? He had actually wanted to kill the Russian pilot. Granted, the man had been trying to do the same thing to one of Bishop's comrades but, that wasn't the only reason Bishop had wanted to do it. Still with his visor up, he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to refocus. Magic interrupted his musing with another warning.

"Magic to Warwolf one, bandits approaching the Miami Beach area. You are cleared to engage."

_More? _Bishop thought absently. "Copy that Magic, Warwolf one moving to engage."

Bishop rolled the plane easily out toward the sea, bringing his visor down as he did so. The holographic display that projected partially on the instrument panel of the aircraft, and partially on his own visor, came to life with green squares, indicating a large formation of enemies. He felt that now was an excellent time to make use of the AMRAAM's stowed in the Raptor's weapon bay.

He flicked a switch and waited for the short whirring followed by a dull thud. The noises came from the weapons being readied, and then locking into place. The weapons bay remaining open, as it did for the AMRAAMs, disrupted the stealth outline of the craft, but at this point of the fighting, Bishop highly doubted it mattered.

He waited for four diamonds to shoot across the display, locking into four of the squares on his display. Once locked, the shapes turned red, signaling the missiles were locked. He hit the button, waited as the AMRAAMs dropped from the weapon bay, and then watched the fireworks as they roared to life and found their targets with ease. He allowed a satisfied smile to tug at the edge of his lips.

His mouth quickly pulled back down into a thin, tense line, and his eyebrows knitted together when he saw the display on his visor. A box had lit up in the middle of his HUD, with the word 'warning' displayed inside. The display was paired with an alarm blaring with intervals of silence every second. Bishop wrenched his head every which way, desperately trying to find the source of the lock. The 'warning' display suddenly changed to 'missile alert'. A loud, constant alarm now threatened to deafen Bishop.

He engaged chaff, flares, and performed an evasive roll all at once. The missile alarm stopped as abruptly as it had begun.

Bishop certainly didn't have time to celebrate this, however. Another lock warning began almost immediately. He still couldn't find the enemy that was latched onto him. His eyes darted around the sky, and he was rewarded with only the view of more chaos erupting around him. It was impossible to tell which plane decided to try and knock him out of the sky.

That is, however, until he heard a detonation from behind his aircraft.

"Coyote one to Warwolf lead. I've got your back, colonel."

"Thanks for that, Coyote", Bishop managed to reply, his heart still racing.

"Damn", Bishop heard a familiar voice over the comm. "Lady beat me to it."

"Warwolf two!" Bishop's rescuer exclaimed excitedly. "You were actually quiet for so long, I forgot you were there!"

She and Bishop both, he was ashamed to admit.

"Please, Jackie. You act like I talk all the time! Bishop knows that's not true, ask him."

"Well, Colonel?" The other pilot asked. Silence filled the comm.

"That hurts, Will." Guts said.

"And just where the hell have you been, Guts?" Bishop asked.

"Oh, you know. Things seemed pretty calm up here, so I decided to pull this baby into the drive-through at Burger King and grab a soda." Came guts' sarcastic reply.

Coyote one laughed loudly over the comm, and Bishop felt himself grinning at the comment. He wasn't about to encourage his wingman with his own laughter, however.

"Stay focused, Guts", Bishop instructed.

"Alright, Colonel."

Coyote one calmed down and fell in with the two Warwolf aircraft. Coyote three had had to RTB with engine trouble, so Jackie found herself as a temporary Warwolf.

"We've got hostiles in the clouds", she said.

"Looks like they wanna play hide and seek, Colonel." Guts added.

Bishop looked over toward Guts' plane and gave his friend a quick nod.

"Warwolf flight, engage!"

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><p><strong>That right there ^ would be the epic black out at the end of an episode. I thought it was a decent point to end the chapter, so... ya, I ended it there. It's pretty self explanatory.<strong>

**Quick Key:**

**HUD= Heads Up Display**

**AMRAAM= Advanced Medium Range Air-to-Air Missile**

**I really don't care about talking about the chapter here because you Should have already read it. This chapter started off as a sort of internal struggle type thing... (Something of my own design actually, it wasn't included in the game.) And it got rather... dark. So, I tried to lighten the mood toward the end.**

**Also no Coyote's name is probably not Jackie, but her name is never mentioned and I sort of made her a MUCH bigger character than she is in the game. (Literally, she seriously just talks about Coyote two bailing out and is NEVER mentioned again.) But, I wanted to add another character. So there.**

**Let me also take this time to let you know (before i recieve any criticism), I have nothing against Russians. Nor do the game developers. (I think) These men just happen to be ultra-nationalists working against the government. They're bad people. Russians are not... :D**

**I hope you enjoyed reading this, because I actually really enjoyed writing it. Much more than my other two fics. Anyways, my brain is tired so I'll just work on the next chapter later. No promises but sometime this or next week chapter 3 should be ready. Review or send a PM if you want to suggest anything or just say "sup"**

**For those of you working on your own projects, and like my writing style (or not, doesn't really matter), I am accepting beta reading requests and will try to help people out as much as I can. I'll help with grammar (grammar nazi), style, or with character development. If you're interested, send me a request!**

**Peace**

**-Specter**


	3. Chapter 3

**I am, in fact, very much aware that this chapter is shorter than others. Rest assured, it does have one dogfight that I'm particularly proud of... If it seems as cool in text as it did in my head. Probably not. ... ... :D. Anyway, the main purpose of this chapter, my apparently bloodthirsty readers, is to establish the FULL cast of main characters that will be involved in the action from here till the end.**

**QUICK ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:**

**Yellow14- Thank you. It's actually quite reassuring to know people believe when I say I'm not racist. Or, county-ist... Prejudiced? Idk. Thanks for reviewing.**

**MercenaryFlyer- You may not be entirely happy... early warning. But it's all going to work out later I assure you.**

**Bondubras of Devoncroix- She's in this chapter! I hope I did your character proper justice so far.**

**THOSE ARE THE REVIEWERS I HAVE AS OF 3/27/12, the day I submit this. If you add later, I will add you in a later chapter's acknowledgments. I still also have Sheity as a reviewer as well, even though I'm not sure if they read this still, but IF YOU DO, BE PATIENT PLEASE.**

**LET THE COMBAT COMMENCE**

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><p><strong>Ace Combat: Nightmare<strong>

**Chapter 3**

**Low Visibility**

The images were becoming more frequent. One moment, Bishop would be flying his F-22, bobbing and weaving through clouds, chasing a ghostly, transparent square that appeared on his HUD. He felt remarkably calm in these moments, easily falling back on years of flight training to keep with the icon symbolizing an aircraft, which was- at the moment- desperately trying to escape from his sights. Overcoming the rush of anger from earlier, that had caused him to want to kill a man in cold blood, had left him feeling somewhat… cleansed. He was now shooting them down with a clear purpose locked in his mind: To protect his friends and countrymen.

These moments of serenity, however, were only one side of the coin.

He fired the missile, watching as it made contact with the enemy plane. The moment it detonated, his HUD disappeared. The plane seemed to be on autopilot as it made a slow bank to avoid the cloud of debris. As soon as the plane rounded the wreckage, he saw it. An Su-35, with the distinctive "shark mouth" design that Markov seemed to be so fond of. A missile streaked from the right wing of the aircraft and violently shook Bishop's plane as it hit.

Bishop should have been able to tell it was a dream by the way the next few moments seemed to fast forward- The ejection, the parachute opening… The impact- but during these moments, Bishop's mind didn't function correctly. His subconscious fooled him every time into thinking that he was seconds away from death. Every time, he snapped back into focus with his heart racing, and sweat sticking his flight suit to his back. This time proved to be no exception.

"Colonel!" A voice screamed.

Something large was approaching his plane, fast. His HUD read it as friendly.

"Break right!" Bishop yelled back, before he could process what was happening. He was glad instincts worked faster than the mind most of the time; otherwise he would have been screwed. His plane jerked to the right, jerking Bishop's head to the side. The other aircraft tilted to its own right, the planes missing each other by a breath.

Bishop swore, and then keyed the comm. "Sorry Guts" he said.

"Uhh, that wasn't me Will. I was just giving you the heads up."

"Then who—"

"Sorry sir", a female voice, who wasn't coyote one, said. "That was my bad."

Bishop tried to multitask, locking onto another bandit's tail while talking to the new addition to the fight. All of the planes were dog fighting in the thick soup of clouds that had quickly overtaken the once clear sky, so Bishop was forced to use his HUD to navigate the fur ball. He navigated his way onto the plane's six, and released a burst of tracers.

The clouds surrounding the stream of bullets, and the ensuing explosion, captured the light from both, casting strange shadows across his field of vision. They made Bishop nervous, as it was impossible to tell what was a plane, a fragment of shrapnel, or anything, for that matter.

He flew carefully and leveled off before keying the comm again. "Who is this?"

"First Lieutenant Lyllian Takarami. Dagger 2, sir."

Bishop noticed a shape in his peripherals, just off his right wing. He turned to it and noticed the outline of an F-35. The silhouette of the pilot raised a hand in greeting.

"My squadron and I got separated. Mind if I stick with you, Warwolf?"

"Just try not to play chicken with me again."

She simply rocked her wings in acknowledgement and pulled away, apparently not one for small talk. The plane was quickly swallowed up by the clouds, but the blue box on his HUD remained. He watched as it began to follow a green enemy symbol, and then noticed the green box disappear within a few moments. While she wasn't much of a conversationalist, apparently she knew what she was doing. _Not bad_. He thought, returning his mind to the battle.

He noticed a green icon to his eleven o' clock, above him, and began to give chase. Rolling the F-22 to the left, he easily got onto the enemy's six and began to open fire. This man, however, refused to go down without a fight. The Russian rolled his plane into a hard left turn, and Bishop wasted no time giving chase. Bishop's target obviously flew a good plane, and knew how to handle it. It turned hard enough that Bishop was forced to pull the Raptor into a High-Gee turn.

As he pulled back on the stick, all of the blood in Bishop's head seemed to be forced down to his feet, and his flight suit squeezed his limbs to get the fluid flowing to his brain again. Nevertheless, Bishop came out of the turn feeling somewhat drowsy, and tried to regain his focus once more. He quickly found his target, which had now pulled into a fast vertical climb. Bishop pursued the aircraft upwards, pushing the Raptor to full throttle. Both planes broke the cloud layer, trailing wisps of vapor behind them.

What he wasn't expecting, however, was for the Russian to rapidly cut power. The other plane slowed down, and Bishop nearly overshot. He slowed his own plane down and pulled back on the stick, determined to stay on his enemy's tail.

The maneuver played out much differently in Bishop's head. What he had expected to was to pull back, roll, and ease onto the enemy's six again. A simple loop. But with all of his experience in Africa and Russia, he should have known nothing was simple. As he pulled back, he noticed a shape hurtling toward him.

An Su-35. Visions flashed before his eyes. Explosions, the shark mouth, and his death. He shook his head, to shake the horrifying image from his mind, and finally processed something at the last second.

The Russian had perfectly mirrored his action. Bishop had to hit the rudder to avoid impacting with the other aircraft, and then tried to roll back. The same situation, only this time, they didn't nearly collide. The Russian wasn't _trying_ to ram him; he was simply trying to get on Bishop's tail. It was during this second pass that Bishop noted, thankfully, the aircraft did not have Markov's trademark Shark mouth on the nose. He let the aircraft fall away from his enemy for a moment, and then rolled back again to try to gain the advantage.

The two planes continued this way. To anyone viewing it from afar, it seemed almost as though the two aircraft were dancing through the sky. They swayed back and forth, in perfect synchronization, narrowly missing each other each time they crossed at the center, in an exhilarating display of piloting skill. They climbed ever higher, departing from the deep white depths of the clouds, and into the bright blue sky above.

This is how it seemed to the casual onlooker, but Bishop's heart was racing in panic. He thought that he had placed all of his fear behind him, but perhaps a remnant stuck with him. His mind raced as he tried to think of options. He could accelerate and try to lose the Russian. _No, _he thought, _He could just shoot a missile and this would be over in a few seconds_.

Another pass.

_Think, dammit, think. _An idea crossed his mind. He wasn't sure if it would work, but he had to try.

Bishop alternated with the left and right rudder pedals, and slowed the plane down further, trying to make it look as though he was buffeting. The Raptor shook back and forth, bleeding airspeed. He pulled back, desperately hoping that the Russian believed his ruse that he had stalled.

It worked. The Russian, expecting Bishop to be dropping like a rock, widened his angle as he pulled away, turned, and dove where he expected to find a helpless Raptor falling. Only, it wasn't there. The Russian noticed this too late and by the time he started to pull out, Bishop was already on his tail. Warwolf One's target made a break for the clouds, and the Raptor was hot on his tail. Bishop slowly closed in to gun range. _It's time to end this_, he thought, his finger hovering over the gun's trigger.

Another unexpected complication suddenly appeared from the clouds. More Sukhoi aircraft. _Six_ of them. They all climbed to meet him, and the Su-35 continued to bait Bishop toward his doom. Bishop once again strained to find an option. He had to be missing something. He thought up about six different scenarios of what to do, but they all ended in him being blasted out of the sky. He decided that he didn't have a choice. He continued his dive, arming the AMRAAMs as he did so. 4 of the advanced missiles left. Not enough to down them all, but enough to shift the odds.

Bishop waited for the system to lock, fired a volley at the enemy formation, and waited for the inevitable.

Suddenly, three missiles streaked from Bishop's right and obliterated those that were not destroyed by his attack. He leveled off the plane and traced the missile exhaust clouds back to their source. Flying toward him, and then leveling off nearby, was another Raptor.

"Sorry to be late to the party, Colonel", Warwolf Three said over the comm.

"Don't worry, Steven. It's just getting started, I think."

There was a moment of silence. "I'm just sorry I had to come alone."

Bishop's heart sunk. "What do you mean?"

"We were assisting Tiger over the city, and one of the bastards got Four with his machine gun", he paused, sighing before adding, "I don't think he got a chance to eject."

Bishop felt a wave of rage shoot through him, but quelled it quickly. He wouldn't bring back Warwolf Four by losing his head. The best thing to do now was to stay alert, and focused. He needed to try and bring as many of these people back as he could. Jose, Steven, Lyllian, and Jackie were all still in this.

He wasn't about to let them down.

* * *

><p><strong>See? I told you... Short right? And I wasn't as fond of the ending as I was with the others. Still I think it did it's job well. Lyllian is a character by Bondubras, whom has been a great supporter of mine so far, so when he asked me to include her, how could I say no? She fits in well, I think. Also I am going to pull the same thing with Warwolf 3 that I did with Coyote 1. Just... not as much in this Chapter. Later on.<strong>

**This Chapter actually worked out kind of strange for me... I was reading Grapes of Wrath for AP English (actually a decent read), Playing Keyboard, guitar, playing around with the iDaft app on my iphone, and typing this. All in one afternoon. MULTITASKING LIKE A SIR. (meme thing) So if there are any mistakes or jumps in the action that make it not make sense, please... let me know. It doesn't go away if I don't know about it.**

**So after this I was thinking of working on a fic for the PS3 game LAIR. But I noticed something... There is no category for it. (*My Reaction* ) Can someone please let me know how to actually ask for a new sub-category? I think I did it correctly but... idk.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, and rest assured... there will be more metal carnage ahead. And some other stuff too... but carnage is nice.**

**Peace**

**-Specter**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, Guys! Long time no see eh? Wow man, a few months since my last update. That sucks. Anyway, this (as you can probably tell) is the next chapter for Ace Combat: Nightmare. So as I'm sure you're eager to get reading, I'll just continue talking below. Be aware this has not been beta read and is being posted immediately after completion. ... ... ENJOY!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

**Impending Wrath**

Major Janice Rehl dipped the nose of the B-2 stealth bomber to begin the landing procedure. The aircraft shuddered slightly in response to the wind, which was currently blowing against the aircraft's ten o' clock. Janice put the aircraft into a slight left yaw using the rudder, and continued to dip the B-2 toward its intended landing site. At the moment, she seemed to be bringing the plane down purely by instinct. She guided the heavy bomber to the landing strip with ease gained only from doing the procedure millions of times before. Her mind was elsewhere entirely.

As a result of task force 108 moving stateside, non-fighter aircraft were currently landing in scattered airfields throughout the United States. Janice's landing site was the Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport in D.C., much to her relief. The RR airport was actually where General La Pointe—as well as many other senior staff members of task force 108—was currently stationed, directing the fighter group and relaying commands through the AWACS still in the field. That was where Jan needed to be. She knew that La Pointe would let her listen in on what was going on, and she wanted to know what was happening in Miami.

In her enthusiasm to get to the ground, Janice didn't notice that she had dipped the nose of the aircraft much further than what she had intended. She didn't become aware of it until her co-pilot, Finn, nervously pointed it out.

"Uhh, Major? Our decent angle is kinda steep don't you think?"

"What?" Janice replied absentmindedly.

"Well, you know, when the heads up display is red, it means you're a little off course."

Major Rehl finally woke up and pulled back on the stick, putting the aircraft back on a course that didn't involve them becoming smoking wreckage on the runway. "Sorry about that, Finn. Would you like to take over?"

"Hey, as long as you get us to the ground in one piece, I'm good. You know I trust your piloting skills, but, I didn't want to wind up a pancake on the pavement."

Janice chuckled lightly and finally made contact with the runway. The aircraft bounced off of the runway slightly higher than she had expected, but her use of the rudder and ailerons quickly compensated for the issue. Eventually the stealth bomber made a complete stop, and Janice practically flew out of her seat.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Finn asked.

"I need to talk to La Pointe. You can handle everything from here right?" She asked, desperation seeping into her voice ever so slightly.

Finn stared across the cabin for a few silent moments, noticing her subtle impatient shifting in place. After the longest eight seconds of Jan's life, he confirmed with a nod, and said "Go on, I got things here."

Jan's face lit up. "Thanks Finn", she said quickly, before opening the side hatch, bolting down the stairs to the runway, and running over to one of ground crew, undoubtedly to ask about the General's location. Finn laughed to himself silently and began shutting off the aircraft's systems. As he went through the entire post-flight routine, he thought about that Bishop guy that his pilot talked about. The entire way back the Major had talked his ear off about Bishop's exploits, his recent missions, and pretty much everything else that Finn didn't really care about. But the Major seemed to be very interested in the subject.

He made to get up. _That lucky son of a—_He only made it partway through the thought before being yanked back down to the seat. He tried to figure out what had just happened, when he suddenly realized that he had forgotten to unstrap himself from his chair. _Thank god the major wasn't around to see that, _he thought. He'd never hear the end of it. He watched her enthusiastically running over to one of the hangers. _Bishop, you'd better make it back alive._

Over Miami, the combat still raged on as intense as ever. American aircraft shot down the Blatmoi planes, but still enough remained to put up a fierce fight. The Russian pilots fought savagely against the US pilots. Planes swarmed through the airspace above Miami, still engaged in the contest to see who could get on whose tail first.

Bishop pulled up to avoid machine gun fire, and then dropped in on the plane's tail. Guts lined up three Russian pilots, and took all of them down with one volley of AMRAAMs. Jackie fired off two sidewinders, both impacting on the same aircraft. Steven, Warwolf 3, fired a single missile that tore the entire back half of one of the Sukhoi fighters off. Lyllian followed a Russian pilot into a dive and, after a short burst from her machine gun, made sure the man never pulled up.

The five planes, along with the aid of Tiger flight, managed to continue this way for a long time, fighting separately, yet in sync. They each made certain that enemy aircraft did not get on any of their comrades' tails, while at the same time desperately trying to thin out the enemy's numbers. It seemed to be working, for the most part. Warwolf squadron could now focus on one aircraft rather than five.

Though the odds seemed to be evening out, the wind had suddenly picked up, making maneuvering difficult. The tempest that had been so far off not too long ago was now looming over the horizon, and still drawing nearer. They had to find some way to end the battle; fast. At the moment, that meant shooting down every hostile aircraft that was foolish enough to get in his sights. His first mark was a Russian pilot flying an Su-35, just below his digital sight.

Bishop dipped slightly, easily getting onto the Russian's tail. He fired a quick burst, and the pilot immediately dove for the deck. Bishop followed, trying to keep the sight on the green box on his HUD. With a mixture of yaws and rolls, he fought the increasing wind and kept his gun trained on his target. The hostile dove into the cloud layer, and Bishop followed close behind. He wasn't getting away.

Guts watched as Bishop vanished into the clouds, hot on the Russian pilot's tail. He didn't look as though he was in dire need of any assistance at the moment, so Guts began to scan the skies for his own target. After a brief moment of searching, he saw something that made him panic.

"Jackie! Dive!" He shouted over the radio.

He looked on as Coyote one followed his direction, inverting and diving. The maneuver caused a stream of tracers meant to hit her aircraft to miss, but the pilot that had fired the burst was not one to give up so easily. He inverted and gave chase.

As he watched the scene unfold, Jose briefly thought about calling his flight lead for aid, but reconsidered. There was no way Bishop would get there in time, and he seemed to be busy at the moment. Besides, Guts was every bit as good as his friend. He engaged the afterburners on the Raptor and rocketed toward the Russian pilot.

After a brief moment, he found himself on the pilot's tail. The man was still firing bursts from his machine gun, trying desperately to knock Coyote lead out of the air. Jackie was still diving, her raptor inching ever closer to the sea below them. Behind her was the Russian, whom was currently being tailed by Guts.

Warwolf two lined up the sights on the Russian pilot and fired a quick burst, not leaving his finger on the trigger for more than a second. He had to be careful, or he'd hit Jackie's plane and do the Russian's job for him. The rounds didn't meet their mark, all flying directly into the murky depths below.

With no room left, Coyote one leveled off her aircraft moments before impacting with the ocean. The Russian followed suit. Guts, on the other hand, was still trying to line up a shot when he suddenly realized that he was about to hit the water. He yanked back on the stick, mentally willing the raptor to pull up as he did so. The plane pulled back abruptly, mere feet from the churning surface. A wave threatened to impact with the plane, but it gained just enough altitude to avoid disaster. Guts wrestled with the controls for a few moments to avoid stalling out.

"Feel free to get this bastard off my tail any time now, Warwolf two." Jackie said over the com. Not surprisingly, she was still able to be sarcastic even when her life was threatened. Jose wasn't sure if he found it irritating, or attractive. His didn't have long to muse on the subject, however, as a spray of bullets impacted on the water around him, snapping him back to reality.

He looked up, watching as two Sukhoi aircraft dropped easily onto his tail. "You've got to be kidding me." He said, as they continued to fire on him. One round hit his plane, causing it to rock violently for a moment, but he regained control quickly.

"Warwolf two! Jose, help!" Jackie screamed over the com. Her plane was now whipping back and forth erratically, trying to get the Russian pilot off of her tail, but to no avail. The man clearly knew what he was doing, and remained firmly locked on her six. "He's got a missile lock!"

"Damn it!" Guts hissed, voicing what was meant to be a thought. He opened the throttle, and latched onto the Russian's tail. "Take this, you bastard."

The area directly to the right of his cockpit opened, revealing the M61A2 Vulcan Cannon. The gun lit up, spraying twenty millimeter rounds at the Su-35 in front of his plane. This time, the rounds hit. They tore through the fuselage, wings, and cockpit of the Russian's plane, tearing it to shreds. The pilot's seat must have malfunctioned, because it simply dropped out of the aircraft and into the water below as the wreckage spun. Guts flew directly through the fireball, miraculously emerging on the other side unscathed.

"Jesus, that was close. I owe you one, Guts."

"Just get me a drink when we get back to base. Now get back to the fur ball."

"No. I'm not leaving you here with those guys on your tail."

"There's nothing you can do from where you are, get out of here."

"Negative, Warwolf 2." Her plane climbed swiftly, drawing one of the two planes to follow.

Guts followed, trying to keep parallel with Jackie as she climbed.

"Scissors, now." Jackie said over the com as she leveled off.

He leveled his plane and pulled to the right, toward Coyote one and her pursuer. The planes all crossed each other, narrowly avoiding collision. Guts pulled back, trying to keep with Coyote as she made the turns. The purpose of the maneuver, as he well knew, was to cover your wingman. As the planes turned inward, one of the friendly aircraft would be able to eliminate the pursuer on the other's tail.

They turned in again, and Guts saw his chance. The enemy aircraft on Jackie's tail had turned too wide, and was now within Guts' sights. He fired a quick burst which hit home. The enemy went spiraling downward in a ball of fire.

"Good shot, Guts. Now it's your buddy's turn."

He turned toward Jackie again, waiting for her to take the shot. However, as he turned, he noticed something. Another hostile, coming to his ally's aid. _Crap._ Guts thought. At the angle he was coming in, the Russian would gun down Coyote one soon after she took out Guts' pursuer. So, he made a decision. As he came around the turn, he pulled up. This took him, and the plane on his tail, out of the scissors, and onto a direct collision course with the enemy aircraft. The plane in front of him was an Su-47, painted with a strange color pattern. Rather than the solid black color with white wingtips commonly seen on these types of aircraft, it was painted white, with bright red stars painted on the wings.

Ignoring Coyote one's frantic calls over the com, he continued on his head-on course with the enemy aircraft. After a few moments, he was able to look into the Russian's cockpit, and see the man staring directly back at him. Clearly the pilot had no intention of turning away.

Guts stayed on course for a few seconds longer, and pulled away a moment before impact. He listened for a moment, waiting for the sweet sound of an explosion from the two planes colliding. Only it never came. He looked back and saw that the Su-37 and the Su-47 were now both on his tail. "Damn it!" He said again. "That's not fair!" Guts dove, hoping that Coyote one was smart enough to stay away. As he had expected, the two planes followed closely.

He stayed on course heading toward the water once more, and then pulled back, this time with a different intention than simply avoiding impact. The Raptor jerked backward, and the view outside of the cockpit became a blur for a moment. The scene played out in an adrenaline fueled slow motion effect for Jose, the blurred tan and white objects drifting past him, and eventually appearing directly in front of his cockpit. The F-22 had spun backward, over the Russian aircraft, and come back into the dive directly behind them.

Guts didn't bother lining up a machine gun shot, this time firing a sidewinder at the Su-37. He watched as the plane was enveloped in flames like so many before it, and then prepared to lock onto the Su-47. Only something was wrong. The second plane wasn't there.

Guts frantically looked around, trying to locate the missing enemy. He found it. Or, rather it found him. A flurry of tracers suddenly enveloped Gut's plane, obscuring his vision. _What the hell? _Guts thought. _How'd he do that?_ Guts tried to think of a way out, but saw no option. He closed his eyes and waited for the end.

He heard an explosion. Strange. How would he hear it if he was the one dying? After a few seconds his mind registered that he wasn't the source. He looked back and saw that the Russian was still there, a bright cloud of flares behind him, and a plume of water shooting up. His mind quickly pieced together that someone had fired a missile at the Su-47, and the Russian had reacted by firing off chaff and flare.

"Really hard to save your life if you fly in a straight line, Warwolf two." A feminine voice said over the com. The voice didn't belong to Jackie. An F-35 rolled onto the Russian's tail, trying to down the plane with machine gun fire. Gut's HUD labeled the plane as Dagger 2. "About time you came to help out." He said to Lyllian as he began to swerve to and fro, throwing off the Russian's aim.

"I'm not the only one." She said, as another burst of rounds came from the Russian's seven-o'-clock, hitting the aircraft's left wing.

Warwolf three leveled off nearby Dagger two after he stopped firing. "Sturdy bastard isn't he?"

"You too, Warwolf three? Now I definitely feel loved."

"Not the time, Warwolf two." Steven said over the com.

He fired again, clipping the Ace's fuselage. Smoke began to billow from the white aircraft, its fuel painting a rough streak across the top of the plane. The Su-47 Shuddered, but didn't fall. However, by this point, the pilot was flying in a straight line, no longer giving chase to Warwolf 2.

"Alright, that's enough of this," Lyllian said, as she readied a sidewinder missile. "Firing"

A missile shot forward from the F-35, impacting with the rear of the Russian Ace's plane. The entire rear of the aircraft was torn away, and what remained flew into a violent spin, impacting on the water's surface after a few short seconds.

"Alright", Warwolf three began. "We need to get back to the fight now. You've managed to stray off quite a bit."

"Right. Let's go." Guts said as they returned to the fur ball above the clouds. There, Warwolf one and tiger flight were still facing off against the remnants of the Blatmoi force. The four pilots, Jose, Jackie, Lyllian, and Steven, all chose their targets and resumed the fight. Guts managed to find two Su-35's that were drifting just outside of the engagement, so he quickly engaged them, managing to down one rather quickly. The other, of course, had to give him trouble. After a dogfight lasting only about thirty seconds, Guts downed the hostile aircraft, and found himself above the battle going on below.

He felt almost as he had in the opening few minutes of the fight, when he and Bishop were in the same position, looking down at the enemy. Only this time, it felt even better. He looked down, and saw that there were but a few enemies left. They were near victory, at last! He nonchalantly looked down, trying to see if anyone needed help. It didn't look that way. Everyone was holding their own against the Russian aircraft, and from his altitude, he could see that it was the same situation along the rest of the shoreline.

He circled above the fight for about a minute, looking at the battle in its entirety. The skirmishes happening elsewhere, no doubt consisting of the other members of Coyote and Dagger flights, were also drawing to a close. _And not a moment too soon,_ He thought. Looking out and seeing the horrible sight of hurricane Alex drawing nearer. If all went well, they'd be out of there before long.

Then he noticed something. Nothing that would have been evident, had he been engaged in a fight, but he saw it now. Six planes, coming toward the fur ball. His HUD didn't identify them, so they must have been stealth aircraft. Guts strained his eyes trying to make out more specific details, but they were still too far off. After a few more moments, he was able to make out the planes more clearly. Four Su-47s, and two other aircraft, that he didn't recognize right away.

He put his raptor on an intercept course with the new hostiles, trying to get a visual confirmation on the two leaders as he did so. Soon enough, he was able to confirm the two lead aircraft as PAK-FAs, experimental aircraft that weren't slated to be flyable for another few years. What the hell?

That wasn't the worst of it, either. Once he came into missile range, he realized something. The lead plane had eyes drawn on the front, and underneath that, a gaping maw of razor sharp teeth were illustrated. The Shark Mouth.

Guts panicked. He was Bishop's best friend, of course he'd heard of the nightmare. But still, he never expected it to happen. When he'd heard that Markov would be in the skies over Miami, he'd been just as frightened as Bishop. But he'd still held hope that Markov would be a no-show. But now that he was here, Guts wasn't about to let his friend die. "Colonel! It's him, the Shark Bastard!"

His warning came too late. Already a missile was streaking forward from the hostile flight's lead aircraft. That one missile flew directly toward Bishop's plane, a trail of exhaust behind it. Guts didn't have time to think. He kicked his raptor into full afterburner, heading straight toward the colonel's plane. If he'd timed it right…

As he flew, images flashed before his mind. Jackie, D-Ray, Warwolf two and three. Even La Pointe went through his mind at one point. The old man had a way of becoming a father figure to those under his command. But of course, his brother with whom he was convinced he'd been separated from at birth, and his annoying girlfriend were the last two to cross his mind. He laughed a bit at how he described Jan to himself. Of course she was practically family too. The last image to cross his mind was one of those two, talking and laughing. He was content with that. Still, part of him wished that he could get into one more playful argument with Jan. Or maybe one more night having a drink of vodka that he'd stolen from Major Illich's reserves with Bishop.

His plane passed directly between Bishop's plane and the Missile, and the weapon impacted with his plane.

"GUTS!"

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><p><strong>DUN DUN DUUUUUNNNNNN. What happens next? Will guts survive? Will bishop be able to face this new menace? Find out next time, on the next exciting episode of... Just kidding. Not gonna steal dragon ball z's thing.<strong>

**Anyway, as I said above, this has not been beta read and may contain NUMEROUS errors that I am entirely too lazy to go back and check for. If you see anything, please let me know what it is and where I can find it and I'll fix it ASAP.**

**As you can probably tell, this was done from Guts' perspective rather than Bishop. I know that many of you like the whole internal conflict thing that I've been doing, but I think that delving into another mindset is good. That, and it actually helped me move on with the story. FINALLY. This story is quickly becoming more difficult to write, for one reason or another. Just... severe writers block. I don't even know how to describe it... its just awful. BUT ENOUGH OF MY COMPLAINING. QUICK ACKNOWLEDGMENTS FOR LAST CHAPTER'S REVIEWS ALL THOSE MONTHS AGO.  
><strong>

**Yellow14: Thanks! I would hope so, since I'd like to NOT make a fool of myself or screw up ace combat for everybody. And yes. Yes it would have been very messy.**

**MercenaryFlyer: Dude, don't worry. You'll be ok later, I'm sure. Besides, more stuff EXPLODES in this chapter. Who doesn't like explosions? And yes. Yes he does.**

**Bondubras of Devoncroix: Glad I wrote her right man. In this one she still only has like, one line, but still, she saves Guts' $$ so... you know. I think that's cool anyway**

**LokaCola: Sorry, I just can't say anything before just saying, I freakin love your profile name. I don't even know why, but I just started laughing for no reason when I read it. Just thought you should know. (I'm partialy insane, don't read too much into it.) And I'm glad I did something you liked.**

**I know that there are other reviewers in other chapters, but I have it filtered for chapter 3 and that's all I have. Next time, of you want to be in the "**ACKNOWLEDGMENTS" section, post a review in the most recent chapter. Anyway, I was going to continue this all the way until after the next fight, but then felt that it would start dragging onnn... Even more than it already does. But keep your fingers crossed that I finish and post the next chapter soon so you can see that.****

****Hope you enjoyed the one dogfight that continues through most of this chapter. It's another one of those things that if it actually translated as well from my head to the computer as I think it did, then it's awesome. If not, I rambled like a complete idiot for 3,334 words worth of a chapter. HOPEFULLY THE FORMER.****

****Anyway, review if you like, I'm not going to beg you to or kill you in your sleep of you don't. And I hope you enjoyed it. (I'm actually rather surprised that you've read this far)****

****PEACE,****

****Specter****


	5. I'm back!

The first thing that I would like you all to know is that I am completely and totally unapologetic regarding the long hiatus in my writing and logically owe you no explanation as to what I have been doing for the past several months. That being said, and logic being cast down a bottomless pit from which it will never return, I feel the need to justify my actions; A state of mental disability no doubt a direct result of eating entirely too much glue as a child. If you were hoping for another chapter to either of the stories I am attaching this rant to, too bad! Go read another fanfiction somewhere, there are loads of them. If you wish to remain here and hear both my recounting of the past as well as my plans for the future on FF, welcome friends.

I suppose where this directionless rant should begin is where it ended; my writing I mean. Where I abruptly stopped adding chapters to Skyrim and stopped work on the comeback chapter of Ace Combat is about the same time that I made the life decision to tell college to bugger off and sell my soul to the military. Think that I got shipped off to boot camp and had a justified reason to stop typing? Ha! Not fucking likely! In actuality I have yet to even go to Recruit Training Command, and am, in fact, still in DEP (Delayed Entry Program).

My hiatus has actually comprised of enough meetings and phone calls to make my head spin, as well as attempting to hold on to my crappy Pizza Job. You read that right! Gone are the days of jobless hobo younger me and here to stay are the days of responsible adult me who spends most of his paycheck on steam sales and gas money. Okay, semi-responsible. At least it's better than when I had to beg my parents for each and every new game I wanted like an irritating child begging to go to the toy store to get the brand new toy he just saw on the television. ANYHOW, I have actually had abundant time in between work and meetings, and yet, have not submitted anything on FF. Why?

In a word: Video Games. Two words. Whatever.

Between modding the ever loving shite out of Skyrim and playing brand new games like Rome II, SOASE Rebellion, AssCreed IV, and Bman Arkham not-really-an-origin-story-but-we're-gonna-call-it-origins-anyway-because-fuck-you, I've been completely and totally distracted from doing anything productive on my leisure time.

Anyway, moving on from my cocked-up priorities, let's talk about what I plan to do for the next two months before February 25 (my ship date).

Firstly, I'm scrapping what work I have on the two stories I've written and am beginning anew on everything. What do I mean by starting anew?

-Looking retrospectively at Ace Combat, I realize that I've attempted to shove entirely too much into one battle, like when your mother asks you to clean your room and rather than distribute everything to it's proper place, you decide instead to take every last piece of clothing, garbage, and everything else that isn't nailed down and shove it under your bed, or in the closet. Don't even act like you haven't done it before. So now, I'm going to take the events of Ace Combat: Nightmare, and distribute them across the entirety of the game, as well as add in more events and possibly characters. This new story has yet to be named but I've begun work on it.

-Skyrim: The End Times gets a different kind of overhaul, switching from being told from a single protagonist's perspective to jumping between four-or-so characters of my own creation like a crack addict with multiple personality disorder. For the most part, what you've seen of Mira thus far will remain intact, Soren will now be named Theoden, and it will hopefully be less shitty. The first chapter of this will be a re-work first chapter of the previous fic and will, as I said, branch off from there.

(What follows will be the paragraph in which I blab out everything I've forgotten to say thus far and will have virtually no sense of coherency whatsoever, so brace yourself.)

-Questions? Submit a comment or PM. I'm still taking OC requests for both stories so go ahead and message me if you wish, and I will try to get back to you. I am leaving both of my current stories up, and releasing the new ones with different names. In addition to these two (which I have already begun work on and will hopefully have the first chapters up within the week.) I am also going to submit a brand spanking new Fic featuring an original storyline for Sins of a Solar Empire. I need a BETA for all of these lovely projects, and, moreover, someone to explain to me how betas actually work. Volunteers for either task? Please PM!

I feel like I've forgotten to say something… Oh well! As I said this is just to let you know I'm not dead and that I'll be back for another good month or two before I have to leave again. Hopefully I'll get something up every week and regain some of my writing ability that AP Literature attempted to hammer into me.

Thanks guys!

-Specter


End file.
